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JINGLE AND JANGLE 
AND OTHER VERSES 



Jingle and Jangle 



AND OTHER VERSES FOR 
AND ABOUT CHILDREN 



BY 



/ 



WILLIAM S. LORD 

Author of "Blue and Gold" 




Chicago : New York : Toronto 

Fleming H. Revell Company 

1899 






25253 



COPYRIGHT 1898 
WSf S. LORD 



TWO COPIES nEC'i\fEO. 



FEB -81399 



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CL acL 



CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Dedication — Little Mother-Two-Times . 5 

Jingle and Jangle 11 

The Naughty Boy 13 

Thanksgiving 15 

The Penny 17 

The Box of Sand 20 

The Crow 22 

Three ........ 24 

The Song of the Clock 26 

Hooray for Christmas .... 28 

Rowland's View 30 

A First Valentine 31 

The Orb of Day and Dorothy ... 33 

Strawberries 34 

Dream and Snowflake 36 

Bed-Time 38 

A Four- Year-Old 39 

In Fairyland 41 

Waiting for Snow 43 

A Little Shaver 45 

When it Rains 46 

The Wonderful Jar 48 

Martha Going Fishing 51 

Martha's Cookies 53 

In Memoriam — E. F. 55 



LITTLE MOTHER-TWO-TIMES 

Little Mother- Two- Times ^ heres a song 
for you ^ 
Bravest little woman, sister mine! 
There s a verse for Wilson, one for 
Katharine, too, 
(My! I think a daughter s pretty 
fine! ) 
Here Fm sitting t /linking of tJie days 
gone by 
When you wore a pinafore and 
''braids''; 
How I used to tease you, how you used 
to cry — 
Not a far tiling then cared I for maids. 



6 LITTLE MOTHER-TWO-TIMES 

Little Mother - Two - Times, what a 
breathless race 
Time is running! running! — where 
are we? 
Such a little while ago something in your 
face 
Changed, and lo! no longer you were 
free. 
Love tJien came and claimed you. You 
were glad to go. 
AsJien skies all S2iddenly were blue. 
Such a cup of happiness as mortals 
seldom know 
TJien beagn to pour its gifts for you. 



Little Mother- Two- Times, the best, 
most precious gift 
Of God, is that of motherhood divine; 



LITTLE MOTHER-TWO-TIMES 7 

Clouds of pain and suffering it has the 
powr to lift, 
And oh! the glory of it! see it shine! 
Oh, tlie little children ! tJieir small 
impotent hands, 
Their lielplessness, their need of tender 
love! 
Yet tJiey hold us stronger than the 
strengtJi of iron bands 
And make the Jiome on earth like that 
above. 



JINGLE AND JANGLE 

Jingle and Jangle are two little bells 

That jingle and jangle all day; 
And Jingle rings sweet, with an accent 
that tells 
Of lightsomeness, promise, and May; 
Sunshine and sugar and honey and 
bees. 
Rainbows and butterflies' wings, 
Bird-songs and brook-songs and wide- 
spreading trees — 
Of joy little Jingle-bell sings! 

Jingle and Jangle are two Httle bells 
That jingle and jangle all day; 



12 JINGLE AND JANGLE 

And Jangle rings harsh, with an accent 
that tells 
Of darkness, foreboding, dismay; 
Storm-cloud and vinegar, wormwood 
and gall, 
Toads' tongues and poisonous things, 
Owlets and ravens, and dreams that 
appall — 
Of woe little Jangle-bell rings! 

Yes, Jingle and Jangle are two little 
bells 
That jingle and jangle all day; 
And the one that you listen to strangely 
compels 
Behavior that's sure to betray. 
So listen to Jingle and be a good boy — 

To Jangle, oh, never give ear, 
And your days will be merry and bubble 
with joy, 
While sadness will never come near. 



THE NAUGHTY BOY 

Once I was naughty — ran away 

To see what I could see; 
It was a horrid poky day — 

My mother punished me. 

She didn't whip me — wisht she had, 

So hard she left a mark! 
She shut me up for being bad. 

The room was big and dark. 

It was so dark I thought I saw 
Strange creatures' awful eyes, 

And I was scared and couldn't draw 
My breath for screams and cries. 
13 



14 THE NAUGHTY BOY 

I wisht something would gobble me, 

And so I didn't stir; 
Then I'd be gone, and mother, she — 

Guess that would punish he7'! 



THANKSGIVING 

Upstairs in his trundle bed sleeps a 
child, 
Grown weary with hours of pleasure ; 
All day has his face like a sunbeam 
smiled 
Till he seemed a golden treasure; 
And I have been watching his winsome 
ways 
And listening to his prattle, 
While the joy I have felt would crown 
the days 
Of a soldier loving battle. 

In his bed he lies sleeping ; the tireless 
feet 
That busily nowhere travel, 
15 



i6 THANKSGIVING 

And the hands, with a touch so passing 
sweet 
They knotty brows unravel, 
Are at rest ; and the voice, Kke a silvery 
bell, 
Or the babble of brooks aflowing, 
For the time is still, and all is well, 
With thanksgiving heavenward going. 

Thank God for the little one given to 
me; 

For the child I would love so wisely 
His hands should ever cleanly be, 

His feet ever tread precisely, 
And his voice be raised mankind to call 

To God's and nature's glory. 
Away from the darkness, dimming all, 

To the light of ancient story. 



THE PENNY 

* * If I have a penny, pray, what do I 

do with it ? " 
Forthwith youd be off to buy something 

for you with it! 
Now, isn't it funny how each penny goes, 
And stranger than fiction that nobody 

knows 

What becomes of the penny! 

The penny's not lost; it's still going 

about, 
And its nimbleness keeps it from 

growing too stout; 
17 



i8 THE PENNY 

It scarcely finds time to get warm in a 

pocket 
Before busy hands from its comfort 

unlock it, 

And then goes the penny. 

Now over the counter, exchanged for a 

cake; 
Now into a box for the poor heathen s 

sake; 
Now dropped on the curb in exchange 

for a paper 
A penny oft causes a dime's worth of 

"caper" — 
Not a ''cent", but a "penny". 

There's money and money, but never a 

"cent" 
Except by a cold-blooded miser was 

spent. 



THE PENNY 



19 



A ' ' penny " they call it who spend it for 

fun — 
A penny! a penny! Now run for it! 



run! 



Where is the penny? 



THE BOX OF SAND 

Just back of the house, right under a 
tree, 
Is a box that is full of silver sand — 
Of sand that was washed by a saltless 
sea 
Till it rivals the white of a woman's 
hand; 
And out of that box of sand arise 

Such wonderful sights as never before 
Were spoken of lips or seen of eyes, 
And all within sight of our back door. 

There's an old pie-tin, with numberless 
holes, 
A shovel, a rake and an old tin can, 
A block of wood, and oh, dear souls! 
In the midst of these is a workingman; 
20 



THE BOX OF SAND 21 

He is busily making pies and cakes 
And digging and sifting and playing 
store, 
The which a hole in his stomach makes, 
Which he brings to fill at our back 
door. 

And all of the little folk living near 
Have heard of this wonderful box of 
sand, 
So full of treasures their hearts hold 
dear; 
And in come trooping the busy band, 
Till the sands have forgotten the cruel 
sea 
And the waves that lashed the 
sounding shore, 
For the flood of laughter, the bubbling 
glee, 
That ripple and break by our back 
door. 



THE CROW 

* * Caw ! caw ! " said a crow 
From the limb of a tree. 
Said Rowland: ''I'd know 
What he's saying to me. " 
Why, the crow says ''caw!" 
He's expounding the law, 
And a very great lawyer is he. 

"Caw! caw!" I declare 

They will make him a judge! 
See, he made a point there 
Out of nothing but fudge; 
And now he cries ' ' caw ! " 
(Oh, how he can jaw!) 
You can tell by his air he'll not 
budge. 

22 



THE CROW 



23 



There's a cut to his clothes 

That gives him a hold 
Upon clients he loathes 
Except for their gold; 
And the clerical black 
That covers his back 
Has made him a fortune, I'm told. 

And if you would be 

Of an equal renown 
Then pattern by he 

And you'll capture the town. 
Look wise and say * ' caw ! " 
And your mother-in-law 
Would mistake your old hat for a 
crown. 



THREE 

One! Two! Three! 

Now where can the baby be? 

Only the briefest while ago 

We went into ecstasies over his ' ' crow. " 

Then he was creeping about the floor, 

And into our hearts he went all four! 

If then we had lost him, what had we 

done 
In the wonderful year of One! 

One! Two! Three! 
What a kidnaper Time can be! 
He's stolen my little child away 
That spoke my name but yesterday. 
24 



THREE 25 

' ' Take all that I have of silver and gold, 

And give me again httle Two-Years- 
Old"— 

Such reward I had offered to you, and 
to you, 

In the beautiful year of Two. 

One! Two! Three! 

'Tis God's sweet mystery! 

Time's not a thief, but a bringer of joy, 

And has doubled my blessings in this 

dear boy. 
Oh, give me to love him, and do not 

refuse. 
Kind Fortune, what's needed for 

stockings and shoes! 
To love him in wisdom, that he may 

love me 
Long years that may follow year Three ! 



THE SONG OF THE CLOCK 

* ' Tick-tock ! tick-tock ! " 
Sayeth the clock. 
**And time is a circle and knoweth no 
end: 
With hands ever busy, with face ever 

bright, 
I never shall fail thee by day or by 
night. 
An arm to uphold thee, an arm to 

defend, 
You ever shall find me your friend, 
your friend. " 

* * Tick-tock ! tick-tock ! " 

Sayeth the clock. 

**The minutes I measure are not of a 

size: 

26 



THE SONG OF THE CLOCK 27 

The glad ones shall linger, the sad 

ones shall haste, 
But never a moment of all shall I 
waste ; 
And ever and ever, whatever the skies, 
Grows shorter the journey to paradise. " 



HOORAY FOR CHRISTMAS 

Hooray for Christmas! Seen my sled? 
The best one ever any boy hed! 
She's good for coastin' down the hill, 
For we've just tried her — me and Bill. 
And Bill's a big boy and he knows 
A proper sled: he says mine ''goes." 

You're right, she does go! Just to-day 

I've made three horses run away! 

But hitchin' makes the drivers mad! 

I like to do it. Guess I'm bad. 

For now the presents are undone 

I'm thinkin' of pernicious fun. 
28 



HOORAY FOR CHRISTMAS 29 

I'm plannin' some delayed delights 
As a reward for ''stayin' in nights;" 
The sugar bowl I'll fill with rice 
To compensate for *'bein' nice," 
And my old drum Til beat to kill 
The pain contracted ' ' keepin' still. " 

Hooray for Christmas! Once a year 
It pays to act a little "queer; " 
To keep the woodshed door shut tight; 
To kiss the family "good night"; 
But — ^^cuse me! There's Deacon 

Price, 
Who sprinkled ashes on our ice! 



ROWLAND'S VIEW 

When I see other children swing, 

No matter how they try, 
They never seem, by leagues and 
leagues, 

To swing so high as I. 

When I go swinging, 'tis so strange! 

A httle push will do, 
And I go sailing in the sky — 

My feet stick through the blue. 



30 



A FIRST VALENTINE 

Mistress Elizabeth, sweetheart mine, 
Hath never yet looked on a valentine; 
At this you will wonder because her eyes 
Are blue as the bluest of June's fair 

skies, 
And her cheeks are so blushingly ripe 

and so round 
You will vow that a sweeter pair could 

not be found. 

Mistress Elizabeth, sweetheart mine. 
Will rumple and crumple this valentine. 
The first of a series fond lovers will 

send, 
Declaring devotion that knowetn no 

end. 

31 



32 



A FIRST VALENTINE 



She careth so little — alas! and ah me! 
But such cold indifference long cannot 
be. 

To Mistress Elizabeth, sweetheart mine, 
My heart goes forth with this valentine. 
Some day and forever I'd have her to 

know, 
However her lovers may come or may 

go, 
There is one who hath loved her, who 

loveth her still, 
And thus doth he sign himself: 

Uncle Will. 



THE ORB OF DAY 

AND DOROTHY 

Dorothy Palmer, I love you, 

Your other beau's away; 
Here are three big kisses — just a few 

In honor of the day. 

St. Valentine is such a rogue — 

He says such silly things; 
His compHments just now in vogue 

Were old these fifty springs. 

ril not repeat one — no, not one! 

I'll say but only this: 
The sun for all the race he'd run 

Would stop to get your kiss. 



33. 



STRAWBERRIES 

This is the season of the year 

When woods are green and skies are 

clear. 
With my mamma each morn I go 
A-riding where the strawberries grow. 

In little boxes, piled up high 
Like building blocks, they blushing lie. 
And oh, believe me those who can! 
The gardener is the grocery man. 

Then all about the town we ride — 
'•Good morn! Good morn!" on every 

side. 
And we are home again so soon 
I take a nap and then 'tis noon! 

34 



STRAWBERRIES 35 

For luncheon is the table spread 
And I have milk and buttered bread. 
Says my mamma, with kisses two: 
* * No strawberries are so good as you. " 



DREAM AND SNOWFLAKE 

Dear little boy, my little boy, 

So sleepy, so sleepy. 
See the soft descending snow 
Glancing, dancing to and fro 
Just to pleasure thee, I know. 
Dear little boy, my little boy. 

So sleepy, so sleepy. 

Dear little boy, my little boy, 

So sleepy, so sleepy, 
Close thine eyes. Dost thou not see 
Visions fair as fair can be? 
They are dreams come down to thee, 
Dear little boy, my little boy. 

So sleepy, so sleepy. 
36 



DREAM AND SNOWFLAKE 37 

Dear little boy, my little boy, 

So sleepy, so sleepy. 
Dreams and snowflakes downward fly; 
Soon, too soon, they bid good-by. 
Kiss the earth and mount the sky. 
Dear little boy, my little boy, 

So sleepy, so sleepy. 



BED-TIME 

Just a little while ago, 

When I went up to bed, 
No lamp was lit the way to show 

For fear I'd bump my head: 
And after tea outdoors I'd run; 

The sky was still so bright 
I'd only know the day was done 

When mother called ' 'Good-night. " 

Now the lamps are lit for tea 

And stars are in the sky; 
The stair and hall are bright for me 

And bed-time's always nigh; 
For after tea I stay within 

And find such dear delight 
In picture-books, I feel like sin 

When mother calls ' ' Good-night. " 
38 



A FOUR-YEAR-OLD 

A four-year-old's a baby, 

Whatever you do or say. 
You may rig him out in a roundabout 

And teach him the time of day; v 
As his muscles grow he will bluster and 
blow 

Till you think him an army of men; 
Until short of breath you may ''love 
him to death, " 

And declare, ''he's his father again," 
But, whether you will, he's a baby still, 

Whatever you do or say. 

A four-year-old's a baby. 

Whatever you do or say. 
He may run and shout and want to 
play out 

In the yard the livelong day; 

39 



40 A FOUR-YEAR-OLD 

He may put on his hat and his coat and 
all that 
And button his shoes with a hook; 
He may swagger and strut and pretend 
to be, but, 
No matter how big he may look. 
He's a baby still, whether you will, 
Whatever you do or say. 

A four-year-old's a baby, 

Whatever you do or say 
You may call him a man, as a mother 
can. 

Seventy times a day; 
If he cries when he's hurt, all covered 
with dirt 

You'll gather him up in your arms. 
Nor kisses refuse to cover the bruise 

And quiet his tearful alarms. 
For, whether you will, he's a baby still, 

Whatever you do or say. 



IN FAIRYLAND 

An afternoon in fairyland! 

Have you known such delight? 
Have you beheld a Brownie band 

Beneath a moonbeam s light? 
Oh, I have seen a fairy queen 

A-hiding in a posie, 
And watched her fays to my amaze 

Play ring around the rosie. 

I took a little hand in mine 

And speedily we fled; 
The land of prose in which you pine 

To us was wholly dead. 
Dear fairyland was near at hand 

And we were, oh, so cosy! 
A crooked stair soon brought us there 

With ring around the rosie. 
41 



43 IN FAIRYLAND 

What happiness to see again 

With morn's unclouded eyes! 
The things we overlook as men 

Would make a paradise. 
With you, my lad, my heart is glad, 

The joy you give my crown is! 
Bless Palmer Cox whose art unlocks 

The secrets of the Brownies! 



WAITING FOR SNOW 

'* To-morrow will it snow, mamma? 

To-morrow will it snow?" 
''It comes from God, my eager child; 

Praise Him, we may not know." 

"And did it snow last night, mamma? 

And did it snow last night?" 
'' Whate'er He sends, my precious one, 

Praise Him with all thy might. " 

* * To-morrow will it snow, mamma ? 

To-morrow will it snow? " 
"Full soon will winter come, mine own. 

And spring we may not know." 

43 



44 WAITING FOR SNOW 

"And did it snow last night, mamma? 

And did it snow last night? " 
' 'And if it did, my darling child, 

'Twould make thy pathway white. " 



A LITTLE SHAVER 

Sometimes a little shaver comes 

When I'm about to shave 
And begs for * * shabing " on his face 

Upturned so sweet and grave. 
He wants a towel round his neck, 

A mirror — bless his hfe ! 
* * A cup and brush and razor" — What ! 

He gets a paper knife. 

And there he'll stand and soberly 

Attack, and nothing loath, 
What summers four have scattered o'er 

His face of stubborn grov/th. 
And while he works, his soapy face 

Is so surpassing grave, 
I smile within, then smile without, 

And cut me as I shave. 

45 



WHEN IT RAINS 

When it rains it seems as though 
The tiresome day would never go. 
Indoor games and indoor toys 
Are more for girls 'n they are for boys. 
Not much fun for me to play 
In the house the livelong day, 
Building blocks and 'tending store — 
When it rains it 's such a bore! 

When it rains, my mother says, 
The birds enjoy it anyways. 
Grass and trees and all such things 
As have their roots, or have their wings, 
Suffer for the lack of rain; 
Boys, they, too, can suffer pain! 
I'd enjoy it same as they 
If outdoors she'd let me play. 
46 



WHEN IT RAINS 47 

When it rains she's 'fraid I'll get 
Shoes and stockings soaking wet. 
Like to take them off and go 
Paddling round, but she says, No. 
See the postman! He don't care. 
Walks in water everywhere! 
Guess I'll play it's raining here. 
Want a letter, mother, dear? 



THE WONDERFUL JAR 

Here's a wonderful jar of Japanese 
ware, 
It is yellow, and daisies of white 
Are strewn on its sides, now here and 
now there. 
Wherever 'tis turned to the light; 
The stems are of gold I'd have you 
behold 
And gold are the leaves just as well — 
But enough of this wonderful jar has 
been told 
And now of its contents I'll tell. 

I'll not lift the lid, for beneath it are hid 

Such fabulous treasures as these : 
The leaves of a plant from the land of 
Ah Sid; 
Some gold that was coined by bees; 
48 



THE WONDERFUL JAR 49 

Some jewels like glass that were found 

in the grass, 

And some lace of the filmiest weave — 

A queen, had she lost it, might well cry, 

'^Alas! 

Misfortune hath caused me to grieve. " 

In this jar there is silk and a pearl, 
white as milk, — 
A monarch-friend gave them to me 
Who has riches too great for my pen to 
relate ; 
Of course I refer to King C. 
And then there's a seed that's a marvel, 
indeed, 
Just plant it and see what 'twill do! 
The fruit on the tree though single it be 
Is always the equal of two! 

My wonderful jar, what a treasure you 
are! 
What secrets you guardedly keep! 



50 THE WONDERFUL JAR 

Altho' you're so small if I should tell all, 
That you hold 'twould put Rowland 
to sleep: 
For, guessing all day would cease to be 
play, 
Little boys grow weary so soon! 
So ril carefully lift you and hide you 
away 
As the daylight has hidden the moon. 



MARTHA GOING FISHING 

Beware, ye fishes, Martha comes! 

She'll offer tempting bait, 
And be it angleworms or crumbs. 

Be not too eager — wait! 
Little fishes, not for you 

She angles — this I know; 
Only to-day I heard her say: 

''For great big fish I go!" 

Ah! there she goes with hook and line 

And nurse to hold her in; 
For when she sees the water shine 

On flapping tail and fin 
Her wild delight will know no bounds, 

She'll laugh and clap her hands; 
Her sparkling eyes will shame the prize 

Which brother William lands. 

51 



52 MARTHA GOING FISHING 

Little Mistress Martha Clow, 

In years to come, what then? 
Is this a fair example how 

Some day you'll fish for men? 
Happy the victim of your art, 

A peerless, blameless knight — 
May he be thine steadfast to shine 

And give thy soul delight! 



MARTHA'S COOKIES 

The wondrous cookies Martha makes, 

The pies and cakes and things, 
Would tempt one to enjoy the ills 

That indigestion brings. 
Such goodness from such simple store 

Does Martha Clow concoct 
It is not safe the pantry door 

To leave an hour unlocked. 

I've seen her take a scoop of sand 

(It should not be too dry) 
And roll it on the molding board 

And presently 'tis — pie ! 
She does not fuss with draughts and 
flues, 

Her oven quickly bakes, 
And consequently ''bake day blues" 

Do not affect her cakes. 

53 



54 MARTHA'S COOKIES 

But Martha's cookies! I declare 

Them more than simply "good"; 
For just a dozen I'd exchange 

A ton of angels' food! 
No baker's wares with them compete; 

No matron's pantry shelf; 
You want the more the more you eat - 

I've eaten six myself! 



IN MEMORIAM— E. F. 

I 

I have not come 
With fife and drum 

To sound the praise of him 
Who now hes low, 
But only so 

To bring one fragrant limb 
Of that sweet tree 
Of love that he 

Made grow in every heart; 
To drop a tear 
Upon his bier 

Before his dust depart. 

55 



56 IN MEMORIAM— E. F. 



II 



He sleeps whose loving lullabies 

Have closed to pleasant dreams, 
In every land, the children's eyes. 

He sleeps, he sleeps the long last 
sleep. 
How past behef it seems, 
This loss that men and women weep! 
He sleeps; no more his voice we'll 
hear; 
Its deep-toned tenderness 
Making the heart give up a tear. 

He sleeps whose songs shall sing for 
aye 
All loving hearts to bless; 

This is the morning of his day. 



IN MEMORIAM— E. F. 57 



III 



My child, do you know your lover is 
dead? 
That the friend of all children lies 
low? 
Last night he was living, when you 
went to bed. 
And now — what is choking me so? 

An angel came down from the precincts 
of heaven. 
And finding a pure white soul 
She folded it close to her breast snow- 
driven 
And hurried away to its goal. 



58 IN MEMORIAM— E. F. 

Up there, little child, he'll have 
tenderest care; 
He'll be rocked in a cradle like you; 
And when he awakes his dreams he 
will share 
With his own dear Little Boy Blue. 

A child again, he will hear once more 
The voice his childhood knew; 

His mother's voice — O my child, adore 
The mother that blesses you! 

But let us not grieve because it is so; 

The heart that we loved has left 
A sunshine of song — let us singing go 

Forgetting that we are bereft. 



FEB 8 1899 



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